Bang, Bang, You're Dead
by s.s.harry
Summary: INSPIRED BY THE PLAY "Bang Bang You're Dead" MASSIVELY Re-EDITED CH1!"Harry James Potter, you are charged for the murders of Mr. Albus Dumbledore, Ms. Hermione Granger, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Mr. Dean Thomas, how do you plead?"
1. Part 1

Title: Bang, Bang, You're Dead

Authors: Melancholyangel and S.S.Harry

Summary: "Harry James Potter, you are charged for the murders of Mr. Albus Dumbledore, Ms. Hermione Granger, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Mr. Dean Thomas, how do you plead?"

EDITED AS OF 04/11/2008!!

**_--_**

**_"Harry James Potter, you are charged for the murders of Mr. Albus Dumbledore, Ms. Hermione Granger, Mr. Ronald Weasley and Mr. Dean Thomas, how do you plead?" asked Minister Fudge. The hearing, consisting of Wizengamot and the school governors, watched eagerly, many holding their breath, others watching in pure disbelief. "Guilty," Harry said bored. Audible gasps and murmuring was heard from the jury and witnesses. The Minister's mouth hung open momentarily; once gaining his composure, his face was set in stony resolve. "Mr. Harry James Potter, I find you guilty on all charges of murder. You are to serve  life imprisonment in Azkaban prison."_**

**I'm an empty shell**, walking the earth until someone has the courtesy to take my life away; to help me find peace. My waking life is haunted by smiling faces and sneers. Emotional widows come to my final place of distress finding their husbands' souls have been absorbed over night, or that they've committed suicide from depression during the night; and they weep for now they are truly alone.

At noon I can see the wives of the minor criminals down the long winding hall. They look at me with hate, pity, and love, for the savior I once was. Savior, such irony. I both the savior from those they loathe, and the murderer of those they love.  Each passing day, I wonder what it's like to care… to truly see… to smile… to feel. I wonder how they can care for a world with so many flaws; we create nothing but death, destruction, hate, deceit- the legacy of man- so often man is defeated, yet they walk proud, strong, willing to live.

"What is will?" I sometime wonder. Even the saddest, ostracized, most prosecuted child weilds the will to survive, but not I. Not anymore. I learned that my worst enemies were those closest to me. The deceive me for foolish reasons,  believe it dangerous to allow me to live in enlightenment; they smother me in darkness out of _love_.

They took my name away, my individuality, my voice. They replaced my name with crude nicknames; my name blessed upon my does not satisfy them. To they, I am  the retard, the weirdo, the faggot: the freak. These names eat at me hungrily, this mantra follows me like the vicious chant of savages going to battle; the words change you. One day I looked into the mirror and no longer recognized the person staring back at me; I'm no longer a boy, I'm a changeling, I'm an IT.

I hear the names and something inside snapped. My morale was lost; my dignity, my pride, my birthright- gone. I must regain my name. I must through fire find glory. Win it back in the grand theatre in which cruel critics took my name away and coined me the freak. Every person is a critic, some who care to destroy my reputation, and some who care not enough to remember my name. Now that I'm finished… you will never forget my name again.

--

**"There is nothing to dispute,** boy! There's too many tasks to be completed here for me to allow you to wander off to with the delinquent bastards you associate with!" Uncle Vernon gave Harry a stern look as he sunk into his favourite chair, the chair creaking as the full weight of the large man eased himself into it with little grace.

Harry's fists clenched; he looked down to see the shiny scars scattered across his pale white arms. He could imagine them throbbing with the rage currently suppressed in him. Almost a man, he felt too old to be under their control. Harry longed for the freedom and liberty he felt he was depraved of.

"You cannot tell me what to fucking do any more; do you understand me? I'm sick of this bullshit! Sick of this fucking life in this miserable soulless structure you call a home. _I hate you_" words so vicious and with such burning honesty that he not only startled Vernon, but himself as well. Vernon, recovering from his initial shock, stood. His massive hand swiped hard across Harry's face; the satisfying "SMACK!" sound filled Vernon with superiority. Grabbing Harry, he dragged him up the stairs. Flinging open his upstairs room, with a mighty toss, he threw him in the small room like a bag of garbage. He slammed the door shut, and locked it. He locked him away, as if it were an annual ritual, he pretended Harry wasn't part of the family, part of the race, part of the genus.

Harry was furious, blind in the bright summer's embrace. He attacked the door, kicked, screamed, clawed at it. His uncle had soundproofed his room so many summers ago, to block out the screaming from the nightmares Harry had routinely. Rage filled him to where rational thought was no longer necessary. So many years he had suffered at the hands of these people, the ones he called "Family." They were his blood protectors, without them he would surely die, however often it seems with them he'll surely die as well. As the sun began to set Harry's anger overcame him and he fell asleep.

Harry, his uncle Vernon, aunt petunia and his cousin Dudley live in your typical suburbia in Surrey. Since his mother and father had been murdered while he was infant, he was sent to be raised by his Aunt and Uncle. For the last 15 years, they pretended he didn't exist. The Dursley family was racists, the head of the house, Uncle Vernon hated anything he considered not normal: blacks, homosexuals, and especially witches and wizards. Often the middle class man looked down upon his neighbors and even strangers.

_"Son, look at him," Vernon said once, grabbing a fistful of Harry's hair. He pointed at the small scar on Harry's forehead right above a large bloody cut from Vernon lunging him at the table, and squeezes a teacup turned frog in his other hand. He had been furious; Harry pleaded, swearing that he did not know how the frog got there, and that before it was a teacup._

_"Its freaks like him son, freaks like him that disgrace us. Look at this disgusting creature, this fucking amphibian! Freaks let animals into our homes. Freaks live with the animals; they turn castles into barns and ladies into whores! Remember this son," Vernon glared at Harry angrily. His dark beady eyes darted around the room and he noticed the source that the teacup came from. There was a tea set arranged neatly on the ground. Broken figurines that once belonged to Dudley before he mutilated them. Each figurine as a teacup, a saucer, a napkin and a biscuit._

_Vernon's eyes bulged widely. "Playing tea, you little faggot? I'm not raising no queer!" _

_"NO, no not at all Uncle Vernon. I was just imagining I was just playing…" _

_"Playing faggot games!" he snarled. "You wanna be a faggot? Ill treat you like a faggot!" _

_"No Uncle Vernon please…"_

_Vernon grabbed him by the leg and forced him to kneel, his stomach pressed against the bed. He roughly snatched Harry's pants down._

_ "Remember this son, " Vernon said unbuckling his own pants. _

_"This is what you do to queers." _

Harry awoke with tears in his eyes.  He remembered that day. He had been 10 years old; through blurred tears he could see the confused look in Dudley's eyes as he stared straight back at him. Harry had been so sore. Once the skin tore it was not as painful, the blood had acted as a lubricant. Harry couldn't sit down for a month afterwards, and often stole ice cubes from the refrigerator to numb himself.  The nightmare made him feel weak. He remember the fear that Vernon used to enforce in him, he remembered crying, begging, pleading for his Uncle not to hurt him again. He remembered his aunt's cold caring. Quietly, she'd sneak him pain killers, more ice, or ice cream after Vernon came to his room to violate him. It was the only time he'd half felt loved. It was the only sign in the house that someone maybe understood, even if they didn't want to.

Harry felt paranoid. Although it had been years since Vernon had assaulted him in that manner, he felt a cold dread, as if Vernon would come to him tonight, force him the ways he used to.   He couldn't bear it, not again. Harry panicked, pacing the room. He looked out to his window, it was open. Easily, he could slip away, pack his things and go to Ron Weasley's home where everything would be ok, where things would be safe, where love waits for him. He thought of going to the Weasley's and merely crying in his dear Hermione's arms for hours on end, while Mrs. Weasley knit him a new sweater and hummed lullabies. The idea made his heart leap in yearning.

No. He couldn't run away again. He cant flee in fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Harry needed revenge:

Revenge for the cruel way this family treated him.

 Revenge for the way his mother suffered at her sister's hands.

Revenge for the love he never had.

Revenge.

It was time for them to know: he will not tolerate.

Harry lifted a loose floor board he used to hide his figurines as a child. He looked fondly at the objects inside: a small sharp box cutter, still stained from his last cutting, the old figurines and broken tea set, letters from Hermione and Ron, and a small bag of muggle money given to him by Dumbledore in case of emergencies. He took the bag of cash and put it inside of his pants pocket. Standing in front of the window, he scaled the distance, and realized how far 2 stories off the ground really is. He contemplated his options: jump and hope for the best, or climb and risk the Dursley's catching him?

Launching himself out the window Harry landed with cat like grace. The impact however, still stunned him and he  lay dazed for a moment, catching his breath,  before heaving himself onto his feet.

Harry walked down Whisteria Walk to the small dingy shop entitled "Guns N' Ammo." As he entered the dingy shop a small bell rang signaling the clerk that a customer awaits.

"How may I help you?" asked the withered man looking at Harry through thick glasses. What can I get for this?" He asked putting the reserve bag of muggle money on the counter. He didn't at all look fazed at the young age of the boy, but still looked out the window quickly as if to see if this were a set-up. He counted the money slowly and carefully, then looking at Harry as if trying to read him. With a final glance, he ushered Harry behind the wooden counter.

"You don't know me. I don't know you," he said looking at Harry sternly.

Harry nodded; wishing the man would quicken his pace. His anger was being overshadows by contemplation. "What if's" and worse-case scenarios taunted him, fueling fear that was slowly matching his anger. He needed anger to fuel his revenge. He wouldn't step down.

The man handed him a small hand gun and box of bullets. The gun felt good in Harry's hand; It was power; it was respect. He was mesmerized by its smooth shiny surface. How could something so beautiful be so devastating?

He checked the gun thoroughly, examining it for any cracks or evident flaws, not knowing what he was truly looking for, he searched for things he would assume as damage. "This will work," he said, The clerk demonstrated how to adjust the safety setting. Thanking him,  Harry put the gun and it's bullets in his pockets, his hand stroking them as if they were the most precious metal or jewel.

He departed, his step quickening. He was anxious to return to the house before the Dursley's realized his absemce. The tapped his thigh reassuringly as he walked.. Approaching the Dursley's hom, he glanced around. Seeing no nosy neighbors (the past neighbor, Mrs. Door had died  the summer before), he took a deep breath and burst through the front door

Dudley waddled down the stairs startled at the loud noise of the glass panes in the door shattering. "Hey what's -BANG." Dudley looks blankly at the wall before falling heavily down the remaining steps.

Vernon charged into the living room, wielding a large kitchen knife in one hand, ready to face the intruder. Realizing it was Harry, he paused BANG just long enough for him to end up with a bullet in his chest.

Petunia walked in timidly, glancing from the massive profusely bleeding corpses of  Vernon, knife still in had, and her son lying crinkled at the foot of the stairs. Finally her eyes fell upon Harry, standing with the gun pointed directly at her, his eyes clouded with anger. Sorrow and resentment was evident in her eyes. Harry approached her slowly, and she stared at him, too frightened to move. He came close to here, staring into the small blue eyes that were now so full of fear, so much sadness, so much pain. "Im sorry," she said quietly. Harry kissed her gently on the lips. "I know," he said, stroking her hair. He stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers. She stood there, confused and lost in her past. Quickly Harry turned his head, his arm was steady, but on the inside he was quivering like a baby calf learning to walk BANG- it echoed through his head as he heard a small thump upon the floor, "Sorry mum," Harry said sadly...

**I never knew how much** blood a human body contained until I was on my knee's scrubbing away my sins. The hallways seemed to be flooded with it. I could imagine when they found the bodies, unwinding the yellow tape, miles and miles of yellow tape; by the time my tasks have been complete the entire World police force won't have enough.

I reminisce about my actions, they way the gun made me feel… there is no other word for it; I felt powerful, respected. When I pulled that trigger it brought me to an ecstasy that not even Hermione's kisses could match. The looks of shock and pain satisfied me better than a glass of cold lemonade on a hot day in Surrey, and the drip of the blood made me feel complete. Blood is the life.

After I finished cleaning away the stains of my rampage, I packed my bags to travel to Ron's home. I left the Dursley's in the cupboard under the stairs to rot, the way the used to leave me. At Ron's however, I did not find the salvation I was looking for. It was there my insanity and growing hatred for humanity would reach a whole new level. It was there that I felt the sting of utmost betrayal…


	2. Part 2

** _Harry's arms were bound together and two guards were at his sides. He was matched passed the gathered family and friends of the victims he stole from the world. He saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at the front of the crowed, both of them weeping._**

**__**

**_ "Am I still your son now? Am I still your fucking son now?" he heard himself screaming at them, struggling against the guards. He was transported to Azkaban by floo powder, the guards by his side the whole time. Dragged down the dank and dark corridor of maximum security cells he could hear moans, constant mutterings and other sounds breaking sanity makes. He was thrown into the cell at the very end of the corridor; the guards blank faces the last he would ever see of human kind... _**

It's odd how love can be considered so painful, yet so wonderful at the same time. I felt, I truly did. Of course anybody would've felt; she was the best fuck I'd ever experienced. I think that's all it was to her, sex. That's too bad. Much too bad…

**"Three bodies and you have no** idea who did it," the officer said, writing down what Mrs. Door has said. She nodded. There were several policemen taking pictures, searching for hard evidence.

"What about the boy?" said one of the younger children. "What boy?" asked the officer. "The other boy who lives here, he goes to Saint Brutes School for Criminally Insane Boys," piped up young Alfred from number 6. The officers paused. "What's this young lad's name?" "Harry Potter sir," Alfred said. "Levinsky, find anything you can on a Mr. Harry Potter. If he's our man we'll all be on Vacation in Spain and Jamaica soon enough." The police began to bustle around quicker than ever.

** Harry was greeted** by Molly Weasley as he entered the Burrow, his friend Ronald Weasley's home. "Welcome home dear, I'm so glad your aunt and uncle let you come," Molly said, enveloping him in a hug. If anything, Molly Weasley would be the only person he'd want alive, her, her children, Mr. Weasley, and Hermione.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked Mrs. Weasley. "Up stairs with Ron I'd expect," she said thoughtfully. "I've barely heard a peep out of either of them all summer…" Mrs. Weasley said thoughtfully, dismissing it with a wave. Harry began to walk quietly, but eagerly up the stairs.

As Harry neared closer and closer to the room he heard the squeaking of a box spring. 'Probably jumping on the bed,' Harry thought amused. He opened the door quietly hoping to catch them off guard. What he saw drew him to a point of near insanity.

Hermione was naked on top of Ron, bucking her hips into his wildly as she cried his name. Ron's face was screwed up as he began to come, his hands grasping at Hermione's back, urging her on. Harry was disgusted. He shut the door with a quiet snap.

"Ron did you hear anything?" Hermione asked. "No, that was, well great Hermione, I love you," Ron said. "I love you too Ron," Hermione's voice said.

Harry was on the verge of tears. He walked to the bathroom. As soon as he entered the red marbled room his face screwed up. He sobbed into the bathroom sink, banging his fist against it.

He'd promised himself he wouldn't, but he needed it, he needed it bad, to keep calm. He reached in his pocket and found a small compact container which held a stainless steel razor blade. He cut into one of the nearly healed gashes, blood pouring out in small pools. Like rivers of pain, his pain, his sorrow, his mistake, his thoughts. They dripped into the sink, oozy as it ran down his wrist, he knew when it dried he'd itch due to the dry blood, but would not dare to scratch. The pain felt so- so good.

He stood dwelling in his self inflicted pain when he heard a knock on the door. "Harry mate, you in there?" came Ron's voice. Harry hastily wrapped his wrist and washed out the sink. "Just a moment," Harry said. "Oy, hurry up I need a shower," he said. "I bet you do," Harry muttered under his breath.

Harry left the room and Ron rushed in, hair tussled, pushed past Harry with a small "get out of the way you." "So much for Hello Harry," Harry muttered sadly. He shrugged it off, smiled at Hermione who sent it back with one of her charming smiles. 'Bitch' Harry thought bitterly as he walked past her not before muttering a quiet "hello."

Harry sat next to Hermione on the bed; carefully looking to make sure his seat wasn't contaminated with evidence of their betrayal. Hermione smiled, leaning forward she whispered into Harry's ear "missed you." Next door he could hear Ron washing away his sins, just as he had done at the Dursley's

Harry felt Hermione slide behind him, wrapping her legs his waste. He thought he was going to be sick, but instead he ran his hands up and down her legs, remembering what someone once said to him;_ the_ _more ignorant they believe you to be, the more surprised they are when you seek revenge._

He put his head on her chest and said "as did I love, as did I." His web of lies and deceit had just begun. He kissed her neck gently, "Been having a good time love? I've been so lonely with out you." "Oh not at all, Ron can be such a dolt, no where near as interesting to talk to and-" she neared towards his ear. "No where near as fun, if you know what I mean," she said, her tongue touching his ear.

At this act Harry shivered, which she took as a good sign, and continued her tongue assaults. 'I guess it was better when I thought I was the only one experiencing these sensations.' Though he was disgusted, his hormonal instincts began to take over as he felt himself become aroused. At this time Harry wished he had aids, or some sort of Venereal Disease, to torture her with, to shorten her life line more than it already was.

The shower in the next room had stopped, and by the time Hermione had slid her hands up Harry's shirt Ron was standing in the doorway. "Sorry bout before mate, I was in good need of a shower," he said, plastering a smile on his face. Hermione snatched her hands out from under Harry's top and unwound her legs.

"So how's your summer been so far?" Ron was towel drying his bright red hair.

"Deadly, the Dursley's gave me the shits, I'm so glad I'm finally rid of them," Harry smiled at his own pun and Ron, thinking he had missed something, gave a short snort of laughter. "Well until you have to go home again anyway," Hermione said from behind him. "Of course," Harry said.

A small bell was heard as Crookshanks trotted into the room. The cat delightfully jumped into Harry's lap, sensing his feeling of betrayal. Harry petted the cat absentmindedly. "Here kitty," Hermione cooed, trying to scoop the cat out of Harry's lap. The cat yowled, jumping away from her hissing.

'Must smell Ron,' Harry mused. Harry knew perfectly well that Crookshanks and Ron do not get along very well. Hermione looked slightly shocked. "He's never done that before," she said, slightly bewildered. "Probably hungry, the fat mangy feline," Ron said, glaring at the cat, which glared back with twice the intensity. "I'll go feed him," Harry said; seeing Hermione and Ron together in the room of their vandalism was beginning to make him feel slightly sick.

Harry left the room, Crookshanks by his side. The second he closed the door he heard muffled arguing. it seemed Ron was the jealous type. Padding down the stairs and into the kitchen he was greeted with two matching grins hidden beneath straggly long red hair.

"Been so busy lately we haven't been able to get a hair cut. Its giving mum an absolute heart attack, she thinks she has two more bills in the family," George giggled, running his hand through his ever growing hair.

"If I wasn't so afraid of needles I might have followed down bills path of body alteration, I could have a chain going from my ear, to nose, to lip to belly button and to...well… you can use your imagination." Harry smiled, no matter what happened some things would never change.


	3. Part 3

**The Forgotten Disclaimer:** Hey guys, melancholyangel here, just wanted to write that this is based on the play and movie both titled bang bang your dead, appologese for not writting this earlier, lapse of concentration. it is one of the best movies of all time so i suggest you guys see it. we have borrowed some phrases and speaches and shit from the movie cause there just such captivating scenes. SEE IT!!! promise me! i'll cry. (s.s.harry notes her apologies to the angry reader)  
  
**A/N  
  
Melancholy angel:** Look!!! LOOK!!!! 9 reviews!!! that's almost a million  
  
**S.S.Harry:** honestly speaking, if you compute our reviews and a million we still need 999991, but round off that nine and yeah we almost do have a million! Don't forget to review! Kisses and candies for all who review. Just as long as you don't have gonorrheae or herpes. That's just ew...  
  
** Melancholy angel:** oh and make sure to tell your friends, family, lovers and haters about our story because seriously, though I am biased, its going to be fabulous, P.S if u haven't seen Bang Bang your dead by now you...err...are...bad.  
  
**S.S.Harry:** If you want to complain about the font or spelling blame me. Anything else, blame her!  
  
** "You don't know** what I'm capable of! I can get out of here assholes! I can take all of you down with me!" Harry found himself screaming at the door pounding his fists on it. throwing himself on the cold stone bed he began to sob, not out of remorse for his victims but out of self pity for himself. he could feel himself drifting out of the world of reality and into his own mind.  
  
** Several days** passed at the burrow, Harry normally in their small woodsy backyard, thinking of how such a horrible betrayal could be revenged. The wind whistled pass him muttering in his ears 'blow them away...' "blow them away?" Harry repeated. 'blow them away...' Could pulling the trigger be enough punishment to them? Could two small bullets help ease Harry's pain?  
  
The thought it's self seemed surreal. Harry felt himself trapped. On one hand he could kill Hermione and Ron, hurting those around him, but making him happier.  
  
On the other he could let them live while he fights his pain and sorrow, until he drowns in his ocean of misery where they keep pouring more and more pain on him while the rest of the world lived happily. Wasn't it just yesterday when Mrs. Weasley enveloped him in a hug telling him of how he was her surrogate son? Talk about sutting off your nose to spite your face...  
  
'Stop thinking of others... this is for you... for you... this is for you...'  
  
"This is for me," Harry said.  
  
Harry slid his hand over the pocket in his over coat, the gun felt cold, even through the thick material.  
  
"Not today Harry, you go back to school in two days, in two days you won't have to see them together all the time, not today" he told himself, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against a tree he had nick named bob.  
  
Taking the pocket knife out of his pocket he carved the word "Bob" into its somewhat flawed surface, patting the tree fondly he pushed himself upwards and began sauntering into the house, images of bloodshed in his head.  
  
** The next day** they went into diagon alley to get school supplies. They walked through Diagon Alley, Ron talking in a feverish manner about quidditch, and Hermione trying her best to fell up on Harry while Ron wasn't watching.  
  
Harry paused, he saw a dark haired Goth like boy walking past, the shoppers recoiled from him quickly as he passed. Hermione tutted, looking at the boys numerous body piercing and gel spiked hair. "No respect for himself that boy," Hermione muttered.  
  
'Look who's talking?' Harry thought wryly. He was astonished at how the crowd left him alone, quite contrary to their responses to Harry. He was after all "The Harry Potter." Some one always wanted to shake his hand or see his scar and on some cases cause him harm due to his uncontrollable fame, believing he receives it on purpose. 'I wish I were like him, solitary, alone, he probably gets all the peace and quiet he could take' Harry thought, respect for the boy welling inside him.  
  
He caught his eye, nodding at him, the purple contacts of the other boy stared back at him, unblinkingly. He abruptly turned and continued his voyage down the streets.  
  
"You know what guys I think I might go off on my own," receiving no argument from the secret lovers Harry stuffed his hands in his pockets and wandered down a side alley, heading towards a shop he had seen but never entered.  
  
**As he pulled** up next to the shop he could see black clad figures browsing the shelves and racks for clothes, cd's and accessories. taking a deep breath Harry entered. He seemed to go unnoticed and moved through the crowed easily to the racks of clothes against the back wall, pulling a floor length trench coat from the rack he tried it on for size. Inside the folds of material he felt powerful.  
  
"It would look even better with some big boots," A girl commented, smiling at him, her face exotically beautiful.  
  
"Any recommendations?" Harry asked, smiling back. He could use all the help he could get.  
  
She dragged him over to the other side of the shop, boots lined the walls all sizes and shapes.  
  
"These here have matching fastening see?" She said, showing him the silver fastenings on the boots and then the coat.  
  
"Not only that, they're steel toed, great for if you every really feel like kicking anyone," she said smirking.  
  
"Thanks," Harry said.  
  
"You know, you might want to buy a holster before you shoot yourself in the foot," she said, looking at his coat pocket. "How did you-" "Well it's quite easy to spot, c'mon, I'll show you some holsters..."  
  
Harry left the shop laughing at a joke the girl had told him.  
  
"Hey, you want ice cream?" Harry asked her, he still had some left over change.  
  
"Sure," she said.

** They walked to** Floreans Ice Cream shop. Harry ordered two sundaes and they sat.  
  
"I'm Harry," He said.  
  
"Emma, you can call me Em," she said smiling.  
  
"Ah shit," Harry muttered, spotting Hermione and Ron approaching over Emma's shoulder.  
  
"What's up?"  
  
"This girl who thinks I'm her boyfriend and my ex best mate are coming," he said, running his hand through his messy hair.  
  
"Harry baby we missed you! oh.. who's this?" Hermione turned up her nose at the sight of Emma's big black boots, bright purple hair and numerous piercing.  
  
"This is Emma, I just met her. Emma this is Hermione and Ron," Harry said, amused at the expression on Emma's face.

"Oh my god they're so normal," Emma said, shaking Hermione's had and then Ron's.

"We are not!" Ron's outburst caused everyone to giggle hysterically. He has turned into such an idiot.  
  
Hermione and Ron joined their table, both ordering chocolate cones. after finishing there gooey concoctions Harry kissed Emma's cheek good bye and left with Ron and Hermione to buy school supplies.

"Your lucky I'm not the jealous type" Hermione giggled, sliding her tongue over Harry's lips. "Yeah whatever."  
  
That night Harry couldn't sleep. The next day he would be returning to Hogwarts. Part of him ached to go back and another part just wanted to crawl away with Emma and live a freakish existence. He knew he would never see her again and it dragged him down. Little did he know she had helped introduce him to a whole new world of people.


	4. Part 4

** The walls of Harry's** cell were stone and jagged. Most of the other cells had been upgraded since the dementors had been removed but Harry's must have been the few who hadn't. One of the stones in the wall stuck out, its edges weren't exactly sharp but he would use them, standing on his bed Harry begun rubbing his wrist softly over them. "These will do nicely" he muttered to himself.

They walked through the heavy rain, drenching their clothes. Harry was numb, something he greatly appreciated. Being as he hadn't caused himself any acts of self numbing in a few days, this was a great way of relaxation. Ron shivered, rubbing his hands together. "It's bloody freezing mate," Ron said, teeth chattering.

Behind them Tonks and Lupin walked, constantly looking around them; it made Harry paranoid, nervous. He didn't seem to feel the cold any more, or notice where he was going, everyone person he passed he eyed suspiciously, he even sent a 3 year old girl into hysterical tears with an evil eye. " Harry mate, wrong way," Harry had turned left instead of right turning quickly he blushed, embarrassed. Harry hadn't felt embarrassed for a long time but he felt like he now had to compete with Ron, he had let Ron take away his girlfriend, he wouldn't let Ron take away his dignity as well.

They entered the buzzing train station a few minutes later. The guard eyed Harry suspiciously, watching his every move. They stood between platforms nine and ten, choosing who's to go first. Tonks went first, followed by Ron and Hermione. "Well Harry I guess we'll be able to talk more often since I'm taking my original post back," Lupin said, giving Harry a tired smile.  
  
Instead of making Harry feel at ease it made him even more paranoid. Was the order posting as many members as it could INSIDE Hogwarts grounds to keep an eye on him?

"That will be… er… great professor."  
  
I walked through the platform quickly, wishing I were alone; there are things I desperately need to sort out. I really didn't have much against Lupin, only the fact that he wouldn't let me go after Sirius. Sometimes I wonder, is death really as bad as I thought? Living this fucked up existence our fore-fathers called reality, or living but not living behind the veil with Sirius? Harry found himself following Ron, Hermione, Lupin, and Ginny onto the train, the 5 of them getting a carriage to themselves right at the back.

Outside the rain splattered the windows, which felt icy cold as Harry pressed his forehead against them. "Hi ho, hi ho, its off to school we go," Ron said, smiling widely.

"Can't wait to get back in they sky, eh Harry."

"Yeah, s'pose it will be good."

Harry hadn't thought much about flying during the summer holidays, he hadn't really missed it. Compared to the feel of the gun in his hand, the adrenalin rush it gave him, flying was tame. Just the thought of the gun made his heart rate increase. He couldn't wait to use it again, to squeeze the cold metal that molds into his hands, feeling as though it were a part of him instead of just an inanimate object that he could use whenever he pleased.

Harry felt something touch his leg briefly. He looked to his side and Hermione was biting her lip, trying to look innocent. Ginny looked at her disgusted, throwing a glance at Ron whom was absorbed in "quidditch through the ages." Harry couldn't help but mentally agree, ignoring her actions.

Remus looked shiftily at the girls, if there was going to be a fight he'd rather not be there. "Well, excuse me, but I must go speak with the conductor," Remus said, leaving the compartment quietly.

Hermione was biting her lip, trying to look innocent. Ginny looked at her disgusted, throwing a glance at Ron whom was absorbed in "quidditch through the ages." Harry couldn't help but mentally agree, ignoring her actions.

(Emma A/N: Harry turned his head and whispered in Hermione's ear. "Touch me like that in front of people again love, and I'll break everyone of your fingers, you understand?" Heh, heh just kidding folks)  
  
Ron's head snapped up, highly alert to the new subject. "Well we hung out mainly; he has the whole Pink Floyd discography you know. First things were okay, but he was kind of clingy you know? All he ever wanted to really do is kiss and grope all day so I was like later," Ginny said. Ron had a look on his face, the look he gets when he's preparing to do something horribly rash.

"That's great Ginny, that you can stand up for yourself, I'm glad your not just some little whore you know? The type that throws herself at one person, makes them believe you love them then throw yourself at another, I'm proud of you love," Harry said.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat, looking at her watch she jumped up. "Look at the time, c'mon Ron, we've got a prefect briefing to go to." She grabbed Ron's arm pulling him out of the compartment.

Ginny gave Harry a peircing gaze, trying to see inside of him.

"How much do you know?" Ginny asked, moving to the seat beside him.

"Everything, beautiful girl. But if you tell them i know i will have to hurt you. "

Ginny smiled and when she realized Harry wasn't joking she nodded.

"I won't tell them Harry, whatever you have planned they deserve."

The train ride ended and Hermione and Ron still hadn't arrived, filling the pockets of his brand new trench coat ( his Hogwarts robes underneath) he slung his arm around Ginny in a brotherly fashion to protect her from the cold and they ran to the nearest thestral drawn carriage, closely followed by Neville and Luna.

As the sorting began Harry looked around distractedly. Not really caring who was sent to what house. "There are things to be said, but the time is not now, enjoy," said Dumbledore. The platters began to fill and they all began to eat merrily.

When dinner was finished butterscotch pudding was served for desert (S.S.Harry A/N: mmmmm...). Dumbledore tapped his goblet gently, the students' attention averting to him. Just as he opened his mouth to speak the doors to the great hall flung open and in stumbled....  
  
(A/N) Melancholy angel: ha-ha cliffhanger, maybe its bob

S.S.Harry: Oh who could it be? If you'd like to know review! Review the drop dead gorgeous authors!


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